Mail

the rain-water is
running in rills through the narrow lanes like a laughing boy who
has run away from his mother to tease her.

Rabindranath Tagore, The Rainy Day

IMG_2204I’ve been in Mexico almost two years and have never mailed anything, until today.  I didn’t even know where the post office was located although I’d walked past it a few hundred times.  The stamp was 11.5 pesos to mail a letter to the United States. I had intended to mail the letter on Monday and here it was Friday.

I knew I would get trapped in a downpour as the clouds had been gathering all morning and the walk to Centro was under darker and darker clouds.  It started as I stepped into the post office.  I  hid there a few minutes thinking about coffee … but where?  I had an umbrella and started wandering … the gutters were soon overflowing, the flat stones on the sidewalks slick and glistening. I reached the Jardin and everyone had scattered for shelter wherever they could find it.  Passersby smiled as we made room on the sidewalk for another and our umbrellas. My flats were soaked, probably ruined, but they had been targeted for trips such as this, having long ago lost their sheen and souls. I made my way down calle Hernandez Macias and reached the Ancha.  It was there I remembered Diana had told me Jens and Bo had opened their cafe, so that was where I went for coffee and chocolate cake.  Bo grows coffee, roasts it himself and he and Jens have opened a cafe on calle Zacateros.  I talked to Jens’ daughter for a short time and to Bo for maybe an hour. His might have been the best coffee I’ve ever had. The rain stopped, the skies cleared, and I made my way home.

In unrelated news, a drug cartel leader was picked up Wednesday night at a San Miguel seafood restaurant that, according to one Canadian news source, is noted for its “fresh ceviche and fish filet.”  Word has it that the U.S. was offering a $5 million reward for Beltran Leyva’s capture and Mexico’s government had a $2.5 million bounty.  I suspect somewhere, someone is scheming to turn this into a $7.5 million deal.

I Can’t Get Started (I Gershwin/Duke), Warren Vache

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